


Stabilise

by Fulcrumisthebomb



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, inappropriate use of robots as tables, schmoopy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:25:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1471453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fulcrumisthebomb/pseuds/Fulcrumisthebomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drift is clingy no matter where they are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stabilise

**Author's Note:**

> I saw [this post](http://fulcrumisthebomb.tumblr.com/post/82806139599/technohumanlation-perfect) on tumblr and was encouraged to write it :3

Though his sight was exceptionally keen, Perceptor had given up fine tuning his audials vorns ago after he had worked with Wheeljack, and then Brainstorm. It wasn’t just the explosions- although those were bad enough- it was the constant loud noises, exclamations and startled curses that bothered him the most. His hearing was well within acceptable ranges but nowhere near the level of expertise his sight was. 

So, by the time he registered the shuffle off to his left, it was almost too late. The pale frame was halfway back through the rooftop door before he could speak. 

“Drift? Is that you?” 

The door froze, then a blue optic shifted into view. “No?” 

Perceptor huffed in amusement, resettling into his position at the edge of the wall. “You are more than welcome to join me, Drift.” 

“Forgot you were up here,” Drift admitted as he hunched over, crawling to sit beside the sniper. “I thought you were off duty by now. In fact, I’m pretty sure you were supposed to be.” 

“I am not tired,” Perceptor replied quietly with a shrug. 

Drift yawned, leaning back to stretch his arms over his helm, and Perceptor’s gaze immediately slid to the side to lock onto the angles of the white chassis. “Speak for yourself, I’m exhausted.” 

“Then why did you come up here?” Perceptor asked curiously. 

“Figured you were recharging.” Drift’s optics met his with a strangely soft smile. “So I wanted to go somewhere that reminded me of you, but then you were so- so intense and didn’t hear me and- And I don’t know. I’m an idiot sometimes.” 

“Maybe,” Perceptor chuckled, then grunted in surprise when Drift bent and wriggled onto his thighs, knocking the rifle up and over his back. “Drift, wha-,” 

“Shhh.” Drift mumbled absently as he curled his arms around Perceptor’s waist, forcibly curling the bulk of his frame between the sniper’s legs. His helm was the last to cease moving, gently pressed into Perceptor’s side with a soft sigh. 

As much as Perceptor enjoyed the intimacy, he thoroughly _did not_ approve of the location. “Drift, please, we _shouldn’t_ \- at least, not out in the _open_ like this. And you _cannot_ be comfortable like that.” 

“Guess again,” Drift purred, his low tone vibrating against abdomen plating. His grip shifted upwards, digits flirting along back kibbling; he rumbled a laugh when Perceptor gasped above him. “I’m not too much of a _distraction,_ am I? _Hmmm_ , Percy?” 

Resigned to the game, Perceptor slotted his rifle against his shoulder and steadied it on Drift’s upper back, glancing down the sight. Something stirred in the darkness, the barest glint flickering behind collapsed rubble. Perceptor released a vent slowly, finger squeezing in a measured motion until the rifle snapped. Seconds later, there was a distant cry before the unnatural stillness swallowed it. 

“Headshot?” Drift asked lazily. 

“Always.” 

“Aren’t _you_ confident.” Perceptor could feel Drift grin against his waist. “I _like_ that.” 

“We are not interfacing in this vulnerable position,” Perceptor replied, voice sharp with authority. “It is one thing for you to randomly grope me whilst I’m on duty, but...” 

“I wasn’t suggesting it.” Drift nuzzled the warm armour beneath him, the tension relaxing from his frame. “I meant it. You wear confidence very well. _And_ it’s sexy as hell,” he added drowsily. “Y’need to be more aggressive. Speak up more. Tell the others off.” 

One hand left the rifle, carefully draping over Drift’s helm to stroke between the finials. “I have you for that.”


End file.
